


Miri Tallstag - Character Treatment

by FireKing



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Gen, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 10:15:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10384407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireKing/pseuds/FireKing
Summary: This is a short background biography of my player character for an upcoming D&D campaign. She is a human cleric under the life domain. I randomly rolled every aspect of her character, from ability scores to gender. It was really fun!





	

Miri Tallstag stands five feet and eight inches and weighs 182 pounds in adulthood. She has shoulder-length hair so darkly brown it is often mistaken for black and tan skin, with hazel eyes. She was the daughter of Hans and Robin Tallstag, and the youngest of three siblings. Her two elder brothers were Georg and Lars, and they were six and nine years her elder respectively. Hans, her father, was a sailor by trade, as her family lived by the sea during her early childhood. As a result, she could go for months without seeing him. Her mother, Robin, was a schoolteacher, and had little time for her daughter, too. These two things, combined between the age gap between her and Georg, convinced her relatively early on in her youth that she had been a “mistake.” An afterthought.

Try as she might to distinguish herself among her peers, she had the unfortunate circumstance of being a jack of all trades but master of none. She was never poor but never excellent, either. She was always adequate. Art, athletics, academics, and so on were all things she was capable of doing but there was always someone better than her. She never took home any medals or awards or recognition. It’s not that her parents expected great things her—though, in the end, that was precisely the thing. She wanted her parents to expect anything because that would mean they had planned for her to exist at all. Instead, her sustenance growing up was a combination of pats on the head and warm smiles.

There was, however, one thing that she had a knack for. Her father was a skilled midshipman, but on land he was one of the most unorganized men you could find. Ledgers from ships he had sailed on could be found strewn about the house, and as a young Miri taught herself to write using the writing on these documents, it eventually evolved into her being able to copy anything on sight with only a fractional margin of error. Of course, that’s not necessarily something that’s wise to brag about, but Miri saw no reason not to continue honing her skills.

One of the moments that she always considered influential was when she decided to play a prank on her father around the age of fifteen. He was preparing for yet another voyage which would take him away for several months. Perfectly par for the course, yes, but unbeknownst to him, his only daughter had swapped the ledger documenting the valuables on the ship (“valued in all at one thousand, five hundred and eleven gold pieces” she whispered to herself) with one of her own creation. She had even recently been practicing the forgery of official seals, a skill she had been forced to use in order for this prank to go smoothly. In reality, it was more a test of her own abilities than a prank.

She passed. Three and a half months later, her father returned from his voyage just as he had returned from every voyage up to that point: a hug and kiss for his wife, and a kiss on the forehead for Miri. (Georg had enlisted in the military three years prior, and Lars had followed in his father’s footsteps, but as an explorer and not a sailor-for-hire. He wrote letters every now and then, sending trinkets back such as a monster tooth he couldn’t identify. Miri kept it in her pocket—Lars always went out of his way to be kind to her.) No one had realized that the ship’s ledger had been forged, by a fifteen-year-old no less! Miri at that point knew what she wanted to do with her life, because her heart had never beat so fast and it was a feeling she never wanted to lose.

She didn’t stick around home for much longer after that. She gave her parents the dignity of at least being present when she left, and she even told them she was leaving. She’d always play it down if you asked her about what happened, but truth be told it was a nasty fight. Nothing physical but lots of yelling through tears. To date, the last words she has said to her parents are, “Why is right now the first time it feels like I’m wanted in my life!?” Before either Hans or Robin could respond, she had picked up her bag, slammed the door, and walked out of their lives.

Alone and independent for the first time in her life, and barely sixteen years old, Miri realized several things during that long walk away from the house she had spent her entire life in. One, there was no way she could possibly stay in this town. It was too small. Everyone knew her. She couldn’t bear to see her parents again, at least not for a while. She had to keep on walking right out of town, and even further than that.

Two—and this revelation excited Miri more than anything—she realized that no one outside of town knew who Miri Tallstag was. She could be anyone she wanted. If she needed something to prove her identity, she could easily forge it. She had even taken some of her mother’s dyes, which would prove useful when in need of a quick hair or clothing adjustment.

She wouldn’t abandon her previous life as Miri Tallstag forever; she would only abandon it when convenient. And no one wants anything to do with a runaway teenager. But what if you’re Tara Ravenwood, the tax collector in training, and you’re collecting several hundred gold pieces in unpaid taxes? You do have the documentation to prove it after all. What if you’re Prudence Lockheart, the forgotten niece of Winchester Lockheart, who just passed away? You have your family tree with you, and it’s got the Lockheart seal to prove it. Your uncle would have wanted you to have your fair share of what he left behind.

For those first several halcyon years, Miri never stayed in the same town for longer than a week and she never used the same identity twice. She covered miles across the continent, made thousands of gold pieces, and even started to pick up some other tricks. A set of weighted dice was particularly handy to fleece someone on the street. Shell games were almost too easy for her. A coin that was heads on both sides was simple yet effective when used in the right moments. And the second anyone started getting suspicious, she was gone, leaving her identity behind.

Once, she did bite off a bit more than she could chew. She was forced to fake her own death. Well, it wasn’t the death of Miri Tallstag. It was the death of Delilah Waters, a traveling performer who was looking to collect the revenue she had earned for performing at the Foxcatcher Inn some weeks earlier. What neither Delilah nor Miri knew was that the owner of the Foxcatcher was connected to the shady underworld and was used to tricks like these. He called Miri’s bluff, alleging that he was still waiting on the fee that Delilah was supposed to have paid up front for the right to perform at the Foxcatcher at all. He even produced paperwork to prove that! She had to pay up in 24 hours, or else there would be consequences.

Now, that’s not to say Miri didn’t have the money requested from the owner. She absolutely did. But damned if she was going to let him have the last laugh! She was a touch over twenty-one years old by this point and this was the first time she had been seriously tested. She wasn’t about to fail. She left a shred of Delilah’s skirt and her guitar next to the bridge outside town. Then, Miri became Inspector Loribelle Briar, with a copy of the death certificate of Delilah Waters. As it turns out, a matchbook from the Foxcatcher was at the scene, along with a message written in the owner’s distinctive all-caps handwriting: “MAKE IT LOOK LIKE AN AXIDENT.” It was known there was a financial dispute between Waters and the Foxcatcher, but to kill her over it? How cruel. Inspector Briar turned the owner over to the local authorities, and then vanished off the face of the earth. Game. Set. Match.

 

Miri took it easy for a while after that, though. Several years passed without anything eventful happened. She settled into some identities and towns for weeks or months at a time. A con every week turned into a con every month. She had more than enough gold to throw around, and she was looking for one last grift. She had found a nice place to settle, and a house she liked. There was one problem: it was already owned and in use.

She took several weeks to get everything just right, before finally putting her plan in motion. She visited the town hall and produced documentation proving she had a right to look at the deed to the house. Using a vanishing agent that had cost her a rather large sum of money, she erased part of the seal on the deed. She then produced her own copy of the deed, claiming that the other was a forgery. The clerk couldn’t argue, and the matter was quickly taken to the local magistrate, who was forced to rule in favor of Jasmine Hedgepath—Miri’s current identity _du jour_. The current owner, a middle-aged man by the name of Sven Gudmundson, who had listed the home as a private residence. He had lived his entire life on that property, and it was a massive property. He was listed as the only resident. Surely he didn’t need a house that size (but Miri did).

One problem though. What this ordeal revealed to the entire town of Mistborough is that Mr. Gudmundson had been using his massive residence as, essentially, a homeless shelter. Had he declared that on the deed, he would have been liable for much higher property taxes. Instead, he had kept a falsehood on official paperwork, not to mention paperwork that had been forged. Regardless of whether he had been trying to do good in the community, this was not the way to do it. He had committed two very serious crimes, and faced a long time in prison for it.

As this process played out, Miri couldn’t utter a word. She couldn’t exonerate him fully because he had legitimately committed a crime. She couldn’t exonerate him from the crime he didn’t commit because she was too chickenshit to take responsibility for what she had done. She tried to make up it by offering the current tenants the opportunity to stay with her, but every last one turned her down. One child spit on her shoes as he moved his one lone bag out of the house. The house was hers, and it was just as empty as she felt.

She didn’t even spend one night in that house. She nailed the deed to the front door and walked away, still trembling from shame. As she walked around town, she felt everyone’s glares piercing through her soul. Word had spread quickly about what had happened, and what Miri had not known was that pretty much the entire town knew about what Mr. Gudmundson had been doing, and had been okay with it. Then, an outsider came in, upset the balance, and sent him to jail, not to mention left almost a dozen people without a home. She left the town, her bag feeling heavier than it ever had. Instead of following a road, she ducked into the woods, in a misguided attempt to punish herself.

She had enough supplies to make a passable camp, and she spent the night unable to sleep, running every single one of her cons through her head. Each one of them had a victim. Why had none of them affected her this way? Certainly her past actions had brought a great deal of pain and misfortune into people’s lives, and for what purpose? She wasn’t donating this money to charity or spreading it amongst the poor. All of it, several thousand gold pieces, was sitting right there in plain sight. It made her feel sick to look at now.

The next morning, she was dazed and delirious from her lack of sleep, and as a result lost her compass and ended up getting lost period. She wandered for several hours, running out of rations and desperately in need of a bath and a change of clothes. As she forced her way through the thick brush, she noticed that there was a clearing in the distance, with a small building placed squarely in the middle. It looked like a church, and as she got closer and closer, she realized it was.

The symbols decorating the church were unfamiliar to Miri, and she racked her brain to try to determine which pantheon god or goddess this church was built to honor. Then, when she saw the front door, emblazoned with a striking portrait of a beautiful woman with fiery red hair, she knew. This was Sune, Lady Firehair, goddess of beauty. And as she stood in front of the door, gathering herself, the door opened to reveal yet another beautiful woman, but this one of flesh and blood. She was the most beautiful person Miri had ever seen, and it all of a sudden dawned on her that she had not yet kissed anyone in her life.

“Daughter of Sune,” the woman said. She was draped in ornate robes and her raven-black hair fell all the way to her feet. “Why do you mar such a beautiful face with such a woeful expression? What ails you?”

Unable to speak, Miri simply stared. The priestess giggled in response.

“Would you like to come in?”

Miri nodded, and entered as the priestess beckoned her.

Inside the temple, about a dozen people were walking around, talking, or adjusting their appearances in the large mirror that covered the east wall. Everyone took notice of their new visitor as soon as she entered. Miri was the only one not dressed for the occasion, and she felt ugly inside and out as she examined everyone else. They were all beautiful, and Miri figured they were all probably better people than she was, too.

The priestess seemed to notice Miri’s expression worsen, and she rubbed Miri’s shoulder in response. “Do not be disheartened. There is beauty in all. Let us spend this day revealing the beauty in you.”

Miri mustered a weak smile and nodded. She knew temples of Sune generally had bathing areas, although she did not know whether or not these bathing areas were open or private, which worried her a bit. All of the attention also worried her, because she was not wearing any disguise whatsoever. She was just … Miri. For the first time in what felt like ages. As if on cue …

“May I ask your name, daughter of Sune?”

Miri swallowed. She looked out at everyone and took a deep breath.

“My name is Miri Tallstag.” Words she had not said since she had left home. “I have come to wash away my sins.” She allowed herself the opportunity to be a bit overdramatic

Although there was a public bathing hall, the priestess who had welcomed her, Priscilla, had shown her to one of the private washrooms. It was like no other bath she had ever taken before. The room was adorned with aromatic oils, luxurious soaps, and towels made of the softest material Miri had ever felt. She exited the room fully refreshed, wearing the gaudy robe Priscilla had provided her. Priscilla herself was waiting just outside.

“I knew there was someone beautiful hiding behind that maudlin expression earlier,” she said, wearing a warm smile. “But what ails you was not something on the outside.”

Miri nodded in response, still honestly a bit overwhelmed by not just the situation in general, but by Priscilla’s stunning beauty. Miri felt a bit defenseless, in more ways than one. An acolyte had taken up the task of washing her clothes, so all she had to wear was a bathrobe. Priscilla seemed to deduce what Miri’s immediate source of anxiety was, however, and offered her some fresh smallclothes and the same cloak the acolytes wore.

“Even if you do not stay long, as long as you are here, you are one of us.”

The amount of kindness Miri was being shown nearly brought her to tears, especially because no one here knew what she had done. She felt compelled to confess in front of everyone, and she told Priscilla as much, and Priscilla seemed to understand. Priscilla brought Miri to the main room in the temple, where the centerpiece was a twenty-foot high statue of Sune herself, standing behind a small fountain. Priscilla gestured to the mats in front of the fountain. Miri reluctantly knelt and closed her eyes.

“Lady Firehair, I thank you and your children for their hospitality. It is more than I deserve. My greed and selfishness ruined countless lives, and instead of taking responsibility for my actions, I ran away like a coward. Today I introduced myself as my actual self for what feels like the first time in forever. I know not if I can ever repent for my sins, but I know one thing for certain: all of my wealth belongs to you now.”

With this, Miri took the satchel that had been slung around her torso and poured its contents into the fountain. It had been weighing heavily on her, both physically and metaphorically. Now, thousands of gold pieces were pooling up in the fountain. Some of the acolytes dropped their jaws in awe. Priscilla watched on with a stoic expression, waiting to see what the reaction from Sune would be, if anything.

Light suddenly shone through the stained-glass portrait behind the statue, and a single strand of long, red hair fell into Miri’s hands. A hushed but excited murmur among the acolytes stopped the moment a soft voice echoed through the temple.

“My daughter, what matters not is how you acquire your wealth. What matters is what you do with it. We can bring even more beauty to the world. Not just for ourselves, but for others. There is beauty in all, and there is nothing more beautiful than a gift that comes from a place of love. Worry not about what you have done; that is in your past. Look forward to what you will do. Will you stay with us?”

Awestruck by her encounter with the divine, Miri mouthed the word “yes” and nodded.

“Wonderful. I welcome you, Miri Tallstag, and I will always watch over you so long as you continue to share your inner and outer beauty with the world.” With that, the light dimmed, but the strand of red hair remained in Miri’s hands. After a few seconds of silence, the acolytes rushed Miri, congratulating her and welcoming her to the order. Priscilla parted the crowd to give Miri a deep hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“I have never seen Lady Firehair give her blessing to someone so quickly. Welcome.”

The next year was full of equal levels hard training and light debauchery. Miri had to put more care into her appearance than ever before, but the temple had what seemed like an endless supply of cosmetics and personal care products. She looked good, smelled good, felt good, sounded good, and probably even tasted good. She personally saw the results of her donation—beautiful clothes given to the needy in nearby villages, breathtaking tapestries added to the inner walls of the temple, and a new coat of paint for the outer walls.

Her training also consisted of learning to use magic. It was difficult for the first few months, but Miri felt something strong the first time she saw her hands clasp over a cut only to lift them up and reveal that the cut had healed. It was the same feeling she got when her father walked through the door all those years ago none the wiser that his daughter had forged the ledger on his ship. But this time, someone else was the benefit of that hard work. It felt pretty good. Maybe she could even return home now.

She brought up that possibility to Priscilla, who informed her that there was a Sunite temple back in her hometown that Miri did not even know about. It was smaller and less trafficked than the one she was currently staying at, but with all the progress she had been showing recently, Miri’s presence would mean a great deal.

Miri swapped her acolyte’s robes for a beautiful set of chain mail, a shield, mace, and a crossbow. She insisted on traveling alone, but Priscilla insisted that she be prepared for anything. To defend others and the beauty within them, one must defend themselves. The physical training was probably the easiest part of her training since she had joined the cloth. She barely felt the chain mail on her.

Around her neck was a locket, and inside was the hair that had fallen on the first day she had entered the temple. It was her holy symbol, the source of all her divine power. For luck, all of the acolytes kissed it before she left, saving Priscilla for last. “We look forward to when you return,” she said as they all stood outside, waving goodbye. “Go make the world even more beautiful. We love you.”

“I love you too!” Miri exclaimed, hugging Priscilla one last time before running off. The trip back home was long but, a bit disappointingly, uneventful. But as she got closer and closer, reality started to set in. No, she wasn’t scared of anything that would happen on the way home. But that last conversation with her parents played over and over in her head. Not to mention, it had been nearly a decade since she had gone somewhere where people already knew who she was. Was she really a different person now? The temptation to introduce herself as someone other than Miri Tallstag was wedged firmly in the back of her mind. Only time would tell what she ended up doing.


End file.
